


Just One Word

by n_nami



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: College!AU, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_nami/pseuds/n_nami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha is a jerk. An unnerving, cocky bastard that constantly winds Jensen up. He can't stand the guy, really. The problem is that since Genevieve, his best friend, is dating Jared, Misha's best friend, they constantly run into each other – that first time, even literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Word

**Author's Note:**

> My third fic for [Cockles week](http://cockles-week.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> Also available as a PDF with artwork [here](http://www.mediafire.com/view/6gasdgn5640387e/Just_One_Word_by_namichan89.pdf).

“How 'bout you kiss me instead of the floor?”

Jensen looks up from where he's assessing the chaos of his books and notes spread out over the tiled floor.

The guy who dares to make fun of him after mowing him over – yeah, great, that's what you get for holding the door for your best friend and speaking of which, where's Genevieve? - smiles innocently down at him. His blue eyes have a mischievous glint to them and Jensen really doesn't like his attitude. Doesn't this guy have any manners?

Jensen splutters, “Excuse you?” and scrambles to his feet, trying to pick up what's left of his dignity off the floor, too.

The guy's smile doesn't even falter. That little fact alone makes Jensen even angrier.

“I was just-”

“- running me over? Thanks for that!” Jensen spits, then goes down on his haunches to gather his belongings.

“Uh... do you need some help?” At least he sounds a bit unsure of himself now.

And no, it's not like Jensen's notes consisted of a stack of unnumbered pages that are fanned out in a circle around him. It's not like they're crushed and wrinkled between heavy books. No, they were all _perfectly fine_ and Jensen did not expect his first week at college to be like this.

“No, thank you,” he dismisses the guy, snide and polite as he heaves his messy pile of books and notes into his arms.

“Look, I'm really sorry if--”

Jensen just turns around. He has to get to class, and he isn't in the mood to listen to this jerk.

And where the hell is Genevieve? She does tend to get lost in crowds, and the hallway is packed with students, all of them taller than her.

“Gen?” Jensen calls out, and finally finds her standing a few feet away, watching someone.

Her head snaps around and with a few steps, Jensen is at her side. 

“Are you alright? What happened?” she asks with a confused look, taking in his disheveled state.

Jensen straightens his button-down as much as he can with only one hand available. “Didn't you see? That douche over there ran me over right behind the door and didn't even-- Wait, who’re you looking at?”

Genevieve's eyes had wandered from Jensen's face to a place somewhere behind his back. When he turns to follow her line of vision, Jensen can make out the guy again, staring after him.

“Yes, exactly that one. Look, can we just go? I don't want that creepy dude staring at me after running into me _and_ insulting me,” Jensen rolls his eyes.

“Insulting you? What did he say?”

“Something how I should rather be kissing him instead of the floor. Totally lame pick-up line if you ask me.”

Genevieve raises an eyebrow. “Wow, he did wind you up pretty good, huh?” she grins.

“Don't you make fun of me, too,” Jensen sighs, exasperated.

“Could it be that you're just a bit... I don't know, sensitive because he ruffled your feathers?” she teases with a smirk. She's way too cheerful about this for Jensen's liking.

“Fuck off, Cortese,” he grumbles.

“He's cute, by the way, but you can have him. I'd rather take the giant beside him.”

And while Jensen still can't believe that they're still standing in the hallway when they should be on their way to English Literature 101, he turns around to look once more.

Creepy guy is still there and still looking at them and Jensen feels stupid doing this. But Genevieve is right, there's an incredibly tall guy with floppy brown hair standing next to him. He's even waving a bit shyly at Genevieve, who's returning the gesture, before he grabs creepy guy's elbow and pulls him around the corner and down the hallway.

Jensen is pretty sure that creepy guy even winks at him.

“What a jerk,” he comments drily.

Genevieve shoots him a skeptical look, then nods for him to follow her. “C'mon, we gotta go.”

“Finally,” Jensen groans.

“Hey, I saw that our residential advisor organizes a running group every morning. Didn't you say something about picking up sports again?” Genevieve asks him over their afternoon coffee two days later.

“You saying I'm fat?” Jensen raises an eyebrow and takes a healthy bite of his donut.

Her eyes are twinkling when she answers, “I'm saying we're college kids who live off pizza and ramen and you're a beautiful guy who totally should watch his weight.”

“Yeah, maybe I'll check it out,” Jensen grouses, because she's right. Also, she knows him too well for his own good, but that's what you get for attending college with someone who's been your best friend since kindergarten.

Genevieve blows on her black coffee to cool it, then takes a careful sip. “The flyer on the pin board said that you don't need to register or anything, just show up at the meeting point at 6 a.m.”

“That early?”

“Well, it's a morning run,” she grins. “I'll definitely be there.”

Jensen knows when he's lost, and it's not like he's that disinterested. Exactly the opposite, in fact. “Alright, if you go, I'll join you.”

Creepy guy is their RA.

Of course he is.

Jensen should have expected it, since, well. Karma's a bitch and all that. 

However, it's still a shock after crawling out of bed way too early, managing to put on his shorts and running shoes and an old t-shirt that's maybe a bit too tight – he should've brought his baseball gear from home – just to find creepy guy standing amidst the group at their meeting point, right outside the dorm entrance, leading the warm-up.

“I see we have some new faces in our group,” he says with a way too wide smile. “Welcome! I'm Misha, this is Jared-” he points to the giant, who shoots an awkward smile at Genevieve. “- and we're gonna run a good 5 miles with you this morning. Keep up!”

He takes off, and Jensen is still stuck on this guy's pretentious attitude and who the fuck is named Misha, anyway? Isn't that a girl's name?

“Stop frowning,” Genevieve hisses beside and up at him.

“Still convinced he's a--”

She shushes him with a pointed glare and a tiny smirk. “Don't judge people before your first cup of coffee. We've talked about that, Jay.”

Jensen huffs, thinking she's right, and stuffs his headphones into his ears. Everything's better with Taylor Swift, anyway, even jogging at 6 a.m. with his best friend who's staring dreamily after a guy who's three feet too tall for her.

Somehow, Genevieve even manages to convince him to go the next morning, too, and it becomes kind of a habit.

Jensen just ignores Misha and his flippant comments that are supposed to be motivating. It's not like he needs to talk to the guy, he's just here for his morning workout. And just because Misha likes to hear himself talk and thinks he's funnier than he is, Jensen doesn't need to think so or listen to him.

Genevieve usually takes off to talk to Jared the giant sometime after the first mile, when she's tired of running beside Jensen.

Jensen doesn't mind. He's not talkative in the morning anyway, much less during his run. None of the others – there are about ten people, give or take, every morning – even try to talk to him, thanks to the headphones.

Sometimes, Jensen feels Misha's eyes on him, like they're burning a hole into the back of his head, and he wonders what the guy's problem is.

“Jared invited us to a party this Saturday,” Genevieve says like she's not totally overjoyed, but Jensen can see right through her.

“Alright, so two things,” Jensen starts, putting down his cheeseburger and opening the plastic container of salad to spread some vinegar and oil dressing onto it, “One, let me guess - he invited you, and you bugged him until he said you could bring me, too.”

Her blush is all the answer Jensen needs.

He sighs. “I get it, and I'm sorry.”

“You act like the Grinch in the morning,” Genevieve explains calmly. “What do you expect them to think?”

“That I'm a joy to be around?” Jensen throws back with a wink, and Genevieve kicks his leg under the table. “Ouch!”

“Just promise me you’ll come with me on Saturday and not be a Grinch?”

“Fine,” Jensen sighs again. “If you don't kick me again.”

“Promise,” she smiles sweetly. “So what's the second thing you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh, right. What is it about Jared? Don't try to tell me it’s nothing while you’re trying your hardest not to do a victory dance on this very lunch table,” Jensen grins.

“That would be some entertainment for the whole cafeteria,” Genevieve laughs and almost spills her drink over her tray, barely catches it before it tips over. “Whoops. Well, um. So Jared. He's kind of cute.”

“A-huh,” Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Something tells me that's not all.”

“Oh, come on. You're gay, at least admit that he's hot.”

“Yeah, he's hot,” Jensen nods dutifully, because she has a point. “And he's also as straight as they come, so you go ahead. If he makes any more gooey eyes at you, they’re gonna fall out of his head.”

“He does what?” Genevieve squeals embarrassingly, clapping her hands and almost knocking down her drink again. This time, she even spills a bit of it.

“You didn't notice?” Jensen cackles while she dabs at the small puddle of Coke with her napkin. “He almost ran into a tree three times that I can recall, probably more, because he always looks at you. The forest track will be the end of him one day.”

“Really?” she beams.

“Oh, Gen, don't tell me you're that gone already,” Jensen teases and slurps a mouthful of water.

“What? He's a sweetheart, and funny and he's... kind of a loveable dork, like a giant puppy. You gotta talk to him, you two will totally get along perfectly,” Genevieve rambles while disassembling her bagel to pick out the onions.

“Probably not, since he's best friends with Misha the jerk,” Jensen snarks.

“Just because you misunderstood him the first time you met.” It's Genevieve's turn to raise an eyebrow. “You didn't even give him a chance to explain himself.”

“After running me over and insulting me.”

“Hitting on you,” she corrects him.

“Yeah. Distastefully.”

Genevieve sighs heavily, then picks up her napkin to wipe her mouth clean. “Just, don't act like an ass during the party? For me?”

Jensen huffs amused. “I'm a gentleman and a joy to be around, remember? Promise.”

“Thank you.”

The party isn't at all like Jensen expected it to be.

For starters, they aren't welcomed by some drunk guy opening the door and not recognizing them. Instead, it's Jared, who practically falls over himself trying to hug Genevieve hello. Her laughter is a bit too loud, but Jensen smiles to himself. The two of them are adorable together.

“I'm glad you could make it,” Jared grins when he pulls back, his giant hands still resting on Genevieve's shoulders.

“Of course,” she answers and Jensen swears he can hear the blush in her voice.

“Jensen! Hey,” Jared adds, as if he just noticed Genevieve's attachment, but he sounds genuinely happy to see him.

Jensen is sure he never said so much as good morning to the guy. However, he doesn't care; mostly, because he promised to not be a dick tonight and because Jared didn't do anything to him. And he seems too smitten with Genevieve to be a threat of any kind, anyway.

So he greets him with a nod and a friendly smile.

Jared lets them in, and Jensen is surprised that the floor is not covered in passed-out students yet. The kitchen is chaos, but it has structure to it.

There's no loud disco music blaring from the speakers in the living room. Instead, there's some guys singing and what has to be at least two guitars filling the air. Jensen perks up at that.

“I'll go check out the living-” Jensen starts, but breaks off immediately when he notices Jared and Genevieve only have eyes and ears for each other. He shrugs to himself, grabs a red cup and a Coke, and quietly leaves the room.

He even makes it across the crowded dining area without spotting Misha, which has to count as some kind of win.

The living room is filled with muffled chatter, the guitars and three guys – a long haired guy with a ukulele, another long haired one with a guitar and one with short hair and a guitar - easily covering the noise.

Jensen leans in the doorway and taps his finger against his cup to the rhythm of the song.

Which is exactly when he looks across the room and locks eyes with none other than Misha.

Well, fuck.

Inwardly, Jensen steels himself for some kind of stupid commentary from the guy, but is surprised and a bit irritated to find himself completely ignored. Misha's blue eyes shift from Jensen to the guy already standing in front of Misha – brown spiky hair, bright grin – and he apparently picks up flirting with the guy right where he left off, a sly grin on his lips as he crowds the guy against the wall they're leaning against.

It makes a strange feeling curl up into an uncomfortable ball in the pit of Jensen's stomach.

Anyway, he's watching Misha too much for his own good. Jensen returns to focusing on the music to find one of the long-haired guys looking at him.

“Hey, new guy,” he grins and nods Jensen over.

Aware of all pairs of eyes in the room – well, all pairs except for a certain blue set – looking at him, Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” long-haired guy laughs. “What's your name?”

“Jensen.”

“I'm Chris, these are Steve and Jason. Do you play?” he nods at the guitar in his hands.

“Yeah, I do,” Jensen replies before he can stop himself.

“Good,” Chris says, gets to his feet, and pushes the neck of the guitar into Jensen's hand. “Because I need to hit the can and then I'mma need some more beer. Take care of this in the meantime, a'ight?”

And Jensen just can't say no to those honest, twinkling eyes, plus he's way too baffled to react. Before he can protest, he's wedged onto the couch between – Steve and Jason? Steve and Jason - and they start a song he knows. Jensen immediately falls into some background chords to play. This he can do, it's easy after all.

The slight nervousness vanishes sometime during the third song they're playing, because Jensen can feel that Jason and Steve take to him as he takes to them, and when Chris comes back, he doesn't reclaim his spot, just stands in the doorway to listen to them with a smile on his face.

“Good job, man,” Jason compliments him over the cheers of the people who have gathered on the floor in front of the couch and pats him on the back. “Anything you wanna play?”

Most of the stuff Jensen knows is country, so they end up with 'The Weight', and he even sings.

Playing guitar has the added advantage of turning his back to Misha, but Jensen only notices that had been the case when Misha is suddenly right in front of him. He almost forgets the lyrics when he sees Misha kissing and groping a blond girl beside the door to the porch. Apparently the guy fucks anything that moves.

Jensen has a hard time concentrating on the song after that. He tries to focus on his fingers moving up and down the frat board in practiced motion and deliberately does not think about how admittedly great Misha's ass looks in that pair of jeans.

Sue him, he's gay, he notices these kind of things, even if the guy in question is a total and utter asshole.

Steve skips out after the song to get a drink or something. Jensen can't tell, because he suddenly has someone's hot breath against the shell of his ear, and when he lifts his head, Misha is gone from where he and the girl were making out.

Well, fuck. Again.

“You know,” a certain someone behind him whispers into his ear, and yeah, of course it's Misha, that's just Jensen's luck- “give us ten minutes, twenty tops, and I'll be upstairs in Chris' room with her. Feel free to join us.”

“What?” Jensen whips his head around, just to – Jesus, almost smack his lips right against Misha's. “Dude, personal space,” he objects weakly.

Misha just hums, looking overly pleased with himself. Bastard. “My offer still stands,” he chirps and heads off with a cheeky wink over his shoulder.

“How did you-- why would I even--” Jensen gasps and leaves the sentence unfinished, because no one's listening to him anyway.

Beside him, Jason chuckles. “He's a handful, huh?”

“He's a... don't even get me started,” Jensen groans and takes a sip from his Coke.

“You two really got off on the wrong foot, I heard.”

“You heard?”

“Yeah, Misha told us. You should give him a second chance. He's really not that bad,” Jason assures him, and it doesn't even look like he's lying.

“Oh, isn’t he now,” Jensen just huffs lamely.

“Yup,” Chris adds, then flops down beside Jensen. “So, Brian Adams?”

“Really?” Jensen raises an eyebrow and grins, takes the out for what it is. “Piece of cake.”

Chris grabs Steve's ukulele and starts the melody, and at least Jensen knows he found friends in these two.

Misha returns about half an hour later with his dark shirt askew and his jeans still unbuttoned. His hair is a mess and Jensen's first thought is a sarcastic, _Look who got his dick sucked._

The blonde girl stumbles down the stairs after him, and Jensen's eyes widen when the guy with the spiky brown hair from before follows, too, looking equally ruffled.

The strange ball of stupid feelings is acting up again, but then Chris hollers, “Collins, you're gonna wash those sheets yourself even if it’s me making you wash them with your own tears!” and everything is a bit better again.

When Jensen goes looking for Genevieve to head home some time after two-thirty, he finds her sitting on the counter in the kitchen in a fierce lip-lock with Jared.

At least one of them got lucky tonight.

Jensen sighs and heads back to the living room to wait for Genevieve, because like hell he's going to leave her alone with some guy she just met. Or, you know, walk those few blocks home alone.

Most of the guests are gone about an hour later, and it's just six of them left in the living room – Steve, Chris, the guy with the spiky brown hair whose name is apparently Mike, a girl named Danni, Jensen, and – much to Jensen's chagrin, Misha.

Mike has been drinking a lot and talks a mile a minute in Chris' direction, who listens half-heartedly and nurses his beer, Steve is idly plucking away on his ukulele, Danni is practically passed out against Jensen's side, and Misha is trying to wind them all up while Jensen tries to ignore him.

Misha gave up on Steve a few minutes in, because he seems to be too out of it, from sleep deprivation or alcohol, who knows. He seems to be not daring to touch Chris with a six foot pole, and Mike doesn't even take note of his comments because he's still blabbering. Danni starts to snore softly, and Jensen supports her with an arm curled around her shoulders because she's slipping off in her sleep.

And because there's no one lucid enough to talk to and Jensen just wants to go home for fuck's sake, he turns towards Misha. “Hey, is there anywhere I can take her to? So she can sleep it off?”

“Bedroom upstairs, to the right. But don't try anything with her, I'm warning you,” Misha shoots back with a wink, obviously trying to be funny and missing by about a mile.

Once again, he has Jensen spluttering. “Who the fuck do you think I am?” he shakes his head, rage roaring up in his chest. “Pretentious prick,” he mutters to himself.

With that, Jensen scrambles to his feet with Danni in his arms and takes her upstairs. The room is blessedly unoccupied, and he pulls off her shoes and spreads the blanket over her. In the hallway outside, there's a six-pack of water bottles, so Jensen grabs one of those and places it beside the bed, too.

When he goes back downstairs, there's something he needs to clarify to Misha before he leaves. If he can find Genevieve, that is.

This time, luck is on his side, because he’s the one that almost runs into Misha when he jumps down the last two steps of the stairs. Misha blinks a few times, and Jensen can smell the sour taste of beer on him. Gross. 

“Also, I'm gay,” Jensen blurts out sharply, then turns on his heel. “So fuck you and good night.”

Misha lets him go, and Jensen doesn't check to see if he looks after him. It's not like he doesn't hear the huff from the other guy, though.

Genevieve and Jared are still snuggling in the kitchen when Jensen gets there. They both look worn out and tired as hell, so Jensen barely manages a weary smile and nods at his friend. “Mind if I take her home?”

“Yes,” Genevieve slurs against Jared's chest.

Jared smiles down at her, lazy and happy. “You should get to bed. I'll call you tomorrow, promise.”

“Mh, fine, then,” Genevieve agrees easily and finally lets Jensen guide her home.

At least the crisp, fresh morning air clears Jensen's head and helps some of his rage towards Misha evaporate.

Jensen is happy for Genevieve and Jared. Really, he is.

Unfortunately, their dating has the side effect of him running into Misha even more than usual. If Genevieve turns up at the coffee shop near campus for their afternoon coffee, Jared is always by her side with Misha in tow. Even if Jensen goes to visit her in her dorm room, he can be sure that Jared is there and Misha shows up some time in-between to ask for food or some book of his that Jared has.

Jensen just wants to strangle the guy.

At least Jared and Genevieve aren't disgustingly all over each other like some new couples tend to be, and Jensen tries to give them their space whenever he can.

The downside to this is obviously that without his best friend, Jensen usually sits alone in his dorm room and sulks. He can't just call Chris and Steve or something, because they're seniors and he's a freshman and really, why would they even hang out with him?

“Why don't you go do something with Misha? He's complaining all the time, too,” Jared says, about two weeks into the whole dating-Jensen’s-best-friend thing.

And Jared, Jensen has noticed, is a pretty funny, decent guy and he likes him. That feeling, however, does not extend to Jared's best friend. “Thanks, but I'd rather sit in my room and play Xbox. The thing hates me less than Misha does and vice versa. Which is saying something because on the best of days I frequently threaten to throw the thing out the window.”

Genevieve shrugs at that. “It's true,” she says, answering Jared's silent question and his eyebrows return from where they've risen on his forehead.

Jared sighs, changes the topic and doesn't bring up Misha again.

A few days later, Jared asks him to join them on a trip to the movies. They bought the tickets and he shouldn't feel excluded and they wouldn't even mind because it's not a date.

And because they‘re a nice couple and the last few days have been boring, Jensen agrees.

Only when he stands in front of the cinema complex, waiting for the others who are all in different lectures until late afternoon, there's only Misha approaching him.

He waves the movie tickets at Jensen like that should explain anything.

“What are you doing here?” Jensen snaps, because he is not in the mood to be left hanging by his best friend and her boyfriend.

“Taking Jared up on the invitation to go to the movies with him and Gen?” Misha throws right back with a snide overtone. “He sends his regards, by the way. They couldn't make it, but since the tickets are already paid for, he said we at least should go.”

“Great,” Jensen groans and lets his head drop back. For a moment, he just stares at the ceiling of the hall and tries not to freak out and run. He won't give Misha that kind of satisfaction.

“It's not like I asked for this, either,” Misha sighs, then adds, “You want popcorn?”

“That would be the least you could do, yeah,” Jensen grunts, aware of how hostile he’s being, but it's just perfect, having to spend the next two hours sitting next to Misha. Fucking Misha of all people, when all he was looking forward to was ripping up a dumb movie with Genevieve next to him.

Misha doesn't react to the hostility and goes to get two Cokes and a bag of popcorn. When they have settled in the seats to wait for the movie to start, they pass the time by silently eating popcorn and ignoring each other as far as possible.

At 5:30 p.m., the movie theater is sparsely crowded. Exactly two other people are sitting in the rows in front of them, and the movie Jared picked is a stupid action flick.

“Yeah, because that makes sense,” Jensen grumbles, more to himself, halfway into the movie when the hero declares his plan.

“It would, if you were Schwarzenegger with Jacky Chan's skills,” Misha chips in.

Jensen snorts out a quick laugh before he can stop himself.

“Are you laughing?” Misha asks promptly, sounding utterly surprised.

In fact, Jensen is laughing, so he just shrugs. “Yeah? So?”

When he turns to Misha, a smile flashes over his face, a genuine one, not one of the fake cheerful or sarcastic smiles that are usually directed at Jensen.

“I don’t think I've never seen you smile,” Misha notes, and before Jensen can argue that, he adds, “You should do it more often.”

“What, to give you something to make fun of?” His retort is lame and Jensen knows it, but damn, it's Misha beside him, and he can't let him have the last word.

“I'm not making fun of you.”

Despite Misha's sincere tone, Jensen can't quite believe that. “Yeah, right. Because you never make fun of me.”

“I make fun of everyone,” Misha replies slowly. “That's got nothing to do with you as a person.”

“It's got everything to do with me as a person,” Jensen spits, and turns his head so he can hold Misha's gaze. “Dude, I never did anything to you and you're constantly throwing shit at me, just to keep up your fucking tough-guy sex guru thing that everyone seems to fall for except me.”

The guy three rows in front of them turns around to glare at them, then makes a shushing noise. So what, maybe Jensen got a bit louder on the last half of the sentence. It's not like the sound of the explosions of the movie wouldn't cover up any conversation anyway.

Misha lowers his voice nonetheless, and it's definitely unfair that it makes it about ten times hotter. “Not a sex guru. I'm bisexual and I like having sex, sometimes with more than one individual. Can't help you if you don't take me up on my offer.”

Jensen snorts, unamused, and whispers back. “Like that was even meant seriously.”

“Yeah, it was,” Misha hushes, and he does sound honest.

“What? Oh, wait, don't answer that.” Jensen falters for a moment and gathers his thoughts, trying to ignore the sudden tightness of his pants.

“I was hitting on you, dumbass.”

“You were harassing me, just like the first time we met,” Jensen snaps and licks his dry lips. “I mean, what gives you the right-”

Misha interrupts him. “No, you know what would be harassing you?” he asks, then leans in to whisper directly into Jensen's ear, and his fingers are suddenly trailing lightly up and down Jensen's thigh. “Harassment would be if I grabbed your cock right now, since it's so obviously interested in the offer you declined. Harassment would be if I stroked you through your slacks right now, which, by the way, look way too plain and hot on you. Harassment would be if I unbuttoned them and stuck my hand down your pants for a better grip, and jerked you off until you came against your will, all because the sick hot guy who's your best friend's boyfriend's best friend is touching you. That would be harassment. Would you want that, huh, Jensen?”

The way his name rolls of Misha's tongue is driving Jensen insane, because Misha's right. He's been hard pretty much since Misha mentioned the offer from the party and all it implied. Plus, Misha's little speech riled him up more than he'd like to admit. He can't let the bastard win, though.

“You’re making fun of me again,” he replies on the exhale, trying to calm his nerves and hormones. Damn his treacherous body.

“Only partly,” Misha hums and retrieves his fingers, not without having them trail down to Jensen's knee and making him shudder.

“You're insufferable,” Jensen groans. “Also, that was verbal harassment, for the record.”

“The line between flirting and harassing is a thin one, it seems. Don't try to deny that you enjoyed it, though.”

“Doesn't matter, it's still harassment.”

“I would make it up to you, but... obviously you prefer sitting there with your dick all hard because of me. Enjoy the rest of the movie.” With that, Misha leans back in his chair, slurps from his coke and eats what's left of the popcorn. He seems too pleased with himself.

“Asshole,” Jensen whispers.

“Stuck-up pretty boy,” Misha chirps back.

“You always have to have the last word, don't you?”

Misha shoots him a cocky smirk and doesn't answer, as if to prove Jensen wrong while still managing to mock him.

Jensen snaps his head around. He can't even look over at Misha or move an inch, because his cock is rubbing and chafing against his zipper, and god, part of him wants to take Misha up on his offer. Thankfully, Misha doesn't say anything for the rest of the flick. He could probably read the phone book to Jensen and make him jizz his pants right now.

However, Jensen's pride makes him frown at the movie until the explosions stop and the credits roll.

“You totally stood us up on purpose, didn't you?” Jensen asks Genevieve the second he sees her the next morning, standing in front of his door in her running clothes.

She grins. “Good morning to you, too. How was your date?”

“Awful, thanks for asking. How was yours?” Jensen replies sarcastically.

“Very quiet and enjoyable. Well, as quiet as Jared gets when he's--”

“Oh, I don't wanna know, spare me the details,” Jensen groans, then rubs his hand over his eyes. He quickly pulls on his shorts and a fresh t-shirt. “And thanks for sexiling me.”

After a moment, Genevieve clears her throat. “Sorry, really. Was it that bad?”

A sigh wrings its way out of Jensen, but he can't help it. “We didn't talk for most of the movie, and when we did, he was making fun of me again and trying to wind me up.”

“And you're sure you're reading all of this right?” she chases, eyebrows high and skeptical on her forehead.

“There's not much to misinterpret when he's calling me a 'stuck-up pretty boy'.”

“Depends on what you've called him before that.”

“An asshole. And he totally deserved it.”

Genevieve rubs her eyes with both hands. “You know, this would be so much easier if you two just sat down and talked about it for once instead of calling each other names.”

“Hey, I'm not the one constantly harassing someone who's not interested in me while trying to make everyone think I'm the totally hot and all-time available sex god of campus,” Jensen says, then tosses a bottle of water over to Genevieve.

She catches it promptly and smirks. “Really? You're not interested in him? Why do I not believe you right now, Jen?”

“You tell me.”

“Because I've rarely seen you so hung up on someone if you don't have an ulterior motive. And because you wouldn't let someone you're feeling completely indifferent towards get to you like this.”

Jensen sighs heavily. “You know me too well.”

“I know. It's a curse,” she smiles. “Still. Admit it to me at least.”

Jensen groans in frustration. “So I think he's hot, alright? Doesn't change the fact that he's behaving like a raging asshole. I can't stand his attitude, his fake smiles, his... everything! You know, he smiled at me in the cinema and it wasn't one of those fake smiles for once. I can't... how could I want a relationship with someone who's all facade without anything behind it?”

“Oh Jensen,” Genevieve shakes her head, amused. “Just... let's go on our run, alright?”

Jensen follows her outside and blames his under-caffeinated brain for the outburst.

Two days later, they're lounging on the sofa in Jensen's dorm room, Jensen with his lit reading assignment in hand and Genevieve with her feet propped up against his thigh, applying nail polish to her toe nails.

Jensen's about to ask her if she and Jared have plans tonight, when there's a knock on the door. “Come in!” Jensen yells, because he can't really move with Genevieve's feet in his lap without ruining her work, and the door is open anyway. Plus, it's probably Jared.

Turns out, Jensen guessed wrong. Instead of Jared, it's Misha standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hey, Misha,” Genevieve waves him in with a wide smile.

Jensen frowns and stares down into his lit book.

“Hey, uh. Is Jared here?”

“No, but give him half hour and he will be. He's picking a few things up from the library,” Genevieve replies. “You can wait here for him, if you want.”

“I'd rather not- I mean, I don't want to impose,” he says, and his voice almost seems a bit unsure.

That makes Jensen look up. Genevieve shoots him a warning glare, and Jensen just shrugs. “Whatever, man. Stay here if you like.” The implication to just don't bother him is clear as a bell, Jensen's sure.

“If you want some water, just grab yourself a glass. Jensen doesn't have anything else, unfortunately,” Genevieve offers and continues to smile at him.

Misha nods politely and does as suggested, then takes a seat.

Jesus, how is Jensen supposed to concentrate on his reading with Misha sitting in the mismatched chair beside the cluttered coffee table – a glorified crate, really. Misha sips idly from his glass for a minute or so, then breaks the tense silence.

“So, do you have any plans for Saturday? We're having another party at Kane's house, pretty much like last time. It'd be cool, you know, if you came.”

It's not like Jensen read the same sentence ten times in that minute and still hadn't grasped what it was trying to tell him.

It's not like he hasn't noticed Misha's wind-swept hair and his ruffled, unironed dark tee under the open, plaid shirt. Misha has been toying around with a hole just above the knee of his jeans, too.

Is he nervous?

Jensen eyes him warily.

“Sure, we'd love to come,” Genevieve answers for both of them, then nudges Jensen with her foot. “You could take your own guitar this time, how's that sound?”

“Good,” Jensen finds himself saying and did he just agree to go to another party where Misha has all the time and opportunity in the world to woo some other guys and girls into the bedroom in front of Jensen's eyes? Again?

Yeah, his life sucks.

Misha smiles, though, and it's the honest, genuine smile again. “Great. I'll let Steve and Chris and Jason know. They'll be happy to see you again, too.”

Like Misha will be happy to see him there as well. Right.

At this point, Jensen is reduced to staring at Misha. “Dude, who the hell are you and what did you do with Misha?” he asks on a whim. “You're like... friendly today.”

“You'd rather we fight?” Misha raises an eyebrow, and Genevieve shoots a sharp look at him, then another one at Jensen.

“I, uh. No.”

“Believe it or not, me either.”

“It's just unusual, is all.”

Misha shrugs and smiles again. Come to think of it, Misha's genuine smile is a pretty nice one.

“So, what're you reading?” Misha asks, then, and Jensen follows the change of subject easily.

“Foreign lit. 'Homo Faber' by Max Frisch, Swiss guy.”

“We read that, too, freshman year. If you need some insight into the seriously messed-up mind of Mr. Faber, I'll gladly help, just don't watch the movie they made based on that book. It'll only confuse you some more,” Misha chuckles and watches him with an amused glint in his blue eyes.

“I, uh... thanks,” Jensen stutters, and for fuck's sake, Misha's getting him flustered. Misha should not get him flustered and this is embarrassing. “I'm reading it for the first time.”

“We can talk about it Saturday, if you're done by then? Provided that I'm not too drunk when you get there.”

Jensen eyes the thin book, mostly to not have to look at Misha and his fucking honest smile. It throws him off balance. “Yeah, I'll be done by Saturday. What is your major, by the way?”

“Sociology,” Misha answers easily. “Yours?”

“Haven't decided yet. I'm mostly taking sports and econ classes right now, lit just because I always liked it.”

“And you're from around here?”

“Gen and I are from Richardson,” Jensen nods. “How about you?”

“I'm from Massachusetts. Just wanted to get away from home and UT seemed like a good university to go to.”

From there, they actually manage a civil, normal conversation for once, and Jensen's 'Homo Faber' lies discarded on the glorified table after five minutes.

It goes as far as Misha inviting Jensen to help out with the GSA's bake sale the day after tomorrow. 

And when Jared does finally show up, Jensen is surprised to see that half an hour has passed.

Genevieve smiles to herself – although that could just be because Jared has shown up..

He doesn't get Misha.

He really, really doesn't, especially when they meet at the bake sale and Misha is back to his complete dickwad personality. Half the time, he's charming money for cookies out of everyone passing by, and the other half he spends shooting Jensen suggestive smiles or nudging his hips and generally touching him too much.

Jensen is about ready to climb a wall.

Not that he doesn't see that Misha's trying to flirt, but he just can't work with his attitude. Everything is over the top and hilarious to him and Jensen just doesn't like it.

“Dude,” he says once most of the cookies are sold and he doesn't have to stick around too long anymore, anyway. “Could you maybe tone it down a bit?”

“Tone what down?” Misha smiles at him and it's the same, overly sweet smile that he directs at everyone and it rubs Jensen the wrong way.

“Your... everything! It's all just...” Jensen breaks off, throwing his hands helplessly into the air. “Why can't you be yourself?”

“I am myself,” Misha replies, perplexed.

Jensen sighs and excuses himself for the day.

And here he thought Misha would be different. Even kind of allowed himself to hope he would be.

“Jensen!” Chris greets him loudly when they arrive at his house on Saturday. Jensen hands his guitar over to Genevieve to hug him. “Man, it's good to have you. Hey, Gen!”

After hugging her hello, too, he immediately throws his arm around Jensen's shoulders and guides the two of them into the house. “C'mon, I need to pitch an idea to you...”

Jensen returns the relaxed grin and listens while Chris explains how he planned to play a certain song with three guitars today, but Jensen loses track somewhere around the bridge part.

Because he spots Misha perched on the kitchen table, in dark denim with holes in the knees and a simple blue t-shirt that hugs his lithe runner's body in all the right places and matches his eyes perfectly.

Misha catches his eye and greets Jensen with a simple smile and a wave of his hand.

“I'll be right over, Chris,” Jensen says, then, and pats Chris' shoulder. “Just gonna say hello.”

“Sure thing,” Chris nods without a fuss.

There's no one else in the kitchen when Jensen enters. Misha twirls a can of beer in his hands and follows Jensen's every step.

“Hi,” Jensen greets him with a shaky nod when he's standing at a reasonable distance in front of Misha.

“Hi,” Misha repeats, a lopsided smirk spreading on his lips. “Glad you came.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, because that actually sounded natural. “So am I talking to the real Misha this time or...?”

Misha sighs. “Yeah, you are. I just tend to... fall into certain roles when I'm with certain people. It's a societal thing.”

“Well, if you like playing roles so much, why don't you become an actor?” Jensen replies, sharper than he intended, but he doesn't apologize. It's what's been going through his head ever since the bake sale.

Misha tips his head back and takes a sip from his beer, the long line of his neck on display. Jensen admittedly has a few urges to suppress at the sight.

“That's actually not a bad idea,” Misha mumbles eventually, lost in thought.

“Look, all I'm saying is that I like this-- when you're being yourself without trying so hard to be someone you aren't – I like it a lot more than the sex fiend who tries to get everything in the world that moves into his bed all at once.”

It's brutal honesty, but Jensen is sick of this strange vibe between them. If they’re going to hang out more as friends because their best friends are now dating, at the very least they should decide if they even like each other or not.

Misha just huffs. After a few seconds of silence, he just tosses Jensen a beer.

“I'm eighteen,” Jensen says flatly.

“Do I look like I care?” Misha raises an eyebrow. He seems too defensive, like he doesn't really want to discuss these things any longer.

Jensen shrugs. “I'll be in the living room.”

“Just... one thing?”

“Yeah?” Jensen frowns.

“If I have to be more genuine, why don't you try to lighten the fuck up for once and try not to misunderstand everything I say?”

“Working on it,” Jensen shoots back, intentionally friendly with a sarcastic tone. “You're not making it easy.”

He takes a deep breath when he leaves the kitchen, not sure what this strange mood of Misha’s means.

Jensen doesn't get the guy. The bitch of it is, he can't stay away from Misha, either.

Two hours later, Jensen is plucking away lazily at his guitar, the melody so ingrained in his brain that he doesn't even need to think about it. 'Blackbird' by The Beatles. Jason sings, and Jensen only looks up once the song is over – to find Misha standing in the doorway, his eyes focused on Jensen and a tiny, private smile curling his lips.

When he notices Jensen's gaze, he turns around abruptly and leaves.

Jason takes a break to get himself a beer, and so does Steve, so Jensen is left sitting on the sofa with Chris.

“So, what the hell's going on with you two?” he asks Jensen.

“With whom?” Jensen asks back innocently.

Chris rolls his eyes and chuckles. “As if you don't know. Misha, obviously.”

“Nothing's going on between us,” Jensen bristles.

“U-huh,” Chris seems unfazed and too amused.

“No, really. He can't stand me, and I’m sure as hell not the first person in line waiting to spend time with him.”

Chris' eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “You think he can't stand you?”

“Yeah?”

“Man, you two need to talk,” Chris huffs around a short laugh.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Means you two need to talk,” Chris dismisses him with a pointed look. “He just went upstairs, probably to my room to get more beer. Just a hint.”

And yeah, Jensen's not dumb. So he sighs, shoots Chris a pointed look and leans his guitar against the couch.

He has a quiet freak-out about halfway up the stairs, but doesn't stop. He's far from sure about what he's even doing and why, but Chris seemed too cryptic, like he knew something that Jensen’s way too curious not to find out.

The door to Chris' room isn't fully closed, and light is filtering into the hallway through the gap between door frame and door. Jensen knocks at the frame anyway.

“Yeah?” Misha asks from where he's bent down beside the bed, his head hidden by the mattress.

“Uh, hey,” Jensen says, and Misha shoots up so fast that Jensen thinks he's gonna fall over.

“What are you doing here?”

Jensen huffs, only partly amused. “I have no idea, honestly. Just, you seem a little off tonight.”

Misha runs his hand through his hair and over his face, then flops down onto Chris' bed. “I was just about to fix that with a little alcohol. And why would you care?”

Jensen shrugs. “Chris said something about... us needing to talk. Now seems as good a time as any.”

Wordlessly, Misha shuffles up the bed to give Jensen some space to sit down.

Jensen takes the offered place gingerly and angles his body so that he can look at Misha without the immediate danger of having to touch him. The bed isn't particularly big.

“Why did he say that?” Misha prompts after a moment.

“Because I said we can't stand each other.”

“That so?” Misha deadpans. “You can't stand me?”

“I just don't get you,” Jensen admits.

“What's not to get about me?”

“Your attitude, the sex guru schtick you've got going on. Constantly making fun of me while hitting on me and telling me it's flirting when it's harassment at best. All that crap. Why do you do that? What did I ever do to you?”

Misha sighs deeply and drops his head, staring at the hands entwined in his lap. “All you ever did was misunderstand me, to the point where I have the impression that you do it on purpose,” he answers sincerely, without a quip or underlying sarcasm. “Or you just feel like you have to get me wrong since you think I want to insult you every step of the way.”

For the first time since they met, Jensen actually makes himself listen carefully.

Misha's words are laced not only with exhaustion, but also with a sort of finality, like he's surrendering. When Misha looks up from his hands to lock eyes with Jensen, they're big and sad and the smile on Misha's full lips is bitter.

“This is...” Misha shakes his head and swallows heavily. “Ridiculous, is what it is. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.”

Jensen finds himself staring and running his hands down his thighs, because being faced with Misha in honesty mode is overwhelming. He's all out of words, reduced to gaping at Misha, who's flustered and ruining his already adorably disheveled hair with his left hand.

“Speechless?” Misha teases, then, with a warm spark in his deep blue eyes.

“Yeah,” Jensen replies. “I didn't... didn't think you'd--”

“What, that I actually wanted to hang out with you, except that you snapped at me for everything I ever said to you?”

“Oh, come on. You dished out just as much as you took.”

Misha raises an eyebrow. “Because you were acting like a jerk. And might I add, only towards me, while all the others told me what a gentleman and overall nice guy you are.”

“It wasn’t any different on my end, believe it or not,” Jensen snaps.

“You're being hostile again,” Misha sighs, but this time, Jensen picks up on the amused undertone in his voice.

“Sorry,” Jensen mumbles. “I just... I thought I knew you. It's a bit much right now.”

“How about you take the time to actually get to know me?” Misha suggests, a full smile now spreading over his lips. “So that I finally know how to act around you, since all my previous attempts have failed so spectacularly.”

“Dude, just be yourself,” Jensen shrugs, then adds, “Like right now. I like you when you're you.”

“That so?” Misha smirks and shifts a bit. He looks like he's working up to something, Jensen muses, and he's adorable while doing so. 

Jensen's fingers are itching with the need to touch. “Yeah.”

Misha tilts his head, then continues thoughtfully. “In that case, may I bring up that I hit on you when we first met?”

“What does that matter now?”

“Did you really not notice that I had a crush on you pretty much since day one? I mean, imagine being so struck in the middle of a hallway by a guy's eyes and general hotness that it’s a complete surprise when he runs into you. How could you not blurt out something ridiculous?”

“You-- what? You ran into me, not the other way around!” Jensen bristles and Misha facepalms.

“Really? That's what you’re taking away from that?”

“So what?” Jensen asks before he can stop himself.

Misha laughs, loud and clear, with his head thrown back and his eyes crinkling in the corners, and Jensen finds himself staring at him, mesmerized. His posture is open, his hands laying idly on his thighs, and his lips look soft where they're stretched into that beautiful grin. Jensen licks his own tingling lips.

_Misha has a crush on him._

“Fuck, Jensen. Listen to me, just once,” Misha says with playful exasperation, but he doesn't get any further.

On a whim, Jensen leans forward, cups Misha's cheek and kisses him square on the lips. It's soft and too quick and Misha smells of peppermint gum and pizza. It's also really good, and Jensen stays right there in Misha's bubble of personal space, watching him.

The look of surprise quickly fades from Misha's face and is replaced by a gleeful smile.

It makes the familiar ball of feelings curl up in Jensen's chests, makes it spread into every cell of his body. He mirrors Misha's wide smile, can't help it at the happiness that Misha radiates and that's engulfing them both.

“Fucker,” Misha chuckles, then tackles him down onto Chris' bed, straddling him and kissing him breathless.

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [blow_me_cas](http://blow_me_cas.livejournal.com/), for being an awesome beta reader and a great friend. Thanks for all your hard work!
> 
> Also to [mishnjay](http://mishnjay.tumblr.com/), for her perfectly fitting fanart! Vielen lieben Dank!


End file.
